The Truth.

I had such good intentions about live blogging, but something took over my life this weekend, and that something was Harry, Revised. Ordinarily I spend, I don't know, three or four weeks per book, but from the moment I got home from work on Friday until the opening pitch of Royals - A's yesterday, I did not look away from this book. What an experience.

I don't know what more to say than "Thank you, Mark." There was just so much truth in this book, about how people can hurt each other, even when all they want to do is help; and how hard it is to forget someone, even when you know your life depends on it (I'm thinking of Lucille and her shithead son); and *SPOILER ALERT* I'm just so blown away that Harry gets the girl in the end -- and promptly gives her up! And even more amazingly, I kind of understood WHY he would ask her to leave, and it was okay with me that he did so, even though we missed out on a damn good sex scene.

Everything about this book was unique. The crazy high-falutin' language, the seemingly bizarre backwards flashbacks, a main character who sometimes seems invisible, and sometimes seems like a goddamn force of nature (I like to think that all men are a little like Harry, noble even when they're cowardly.)

And you know what was the most interesting thing today? When I walked into work, and people asked me how I spent the weekend, and I said, "With a book!" and didn't even feel like a loser. Because if Alexander Dumas can do what he did for Harry Rent, then Mark Sarvas can damn well do the same for Mike Eagle.

"Thank you, Mark."